


Altschmertz

by alexandriakeating



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluffy, M/M, Victor helps talk him down, Yuuri's anxiety gets to him, like really damn sweet, mild anxiety attack, really sweet words are said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:37:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8917942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexandriakeating/pseuds/alexandriakeating
Summary: Altschmerz - n. weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had—the same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been gnawing on for years, which leaves them soggy and tasteless and inert
Yuuri knows he has no reason to feel inadequate or that Victor is going to leave him, but the worries keep coming back to gnaw away at his mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my dear friend [storiesscienceandsnark](http://storiesscienceandsnark.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing this for me.
> 
> It seems I can't stop writing these two. I've already got another one shot lined up, so look for that one soon!

 

Yuuri’s fingers combed through his damp hair. Stopping, he tilted his head and observed his reflection in the bedroom’s mirror. He frowned and shook his hair. Droplets of water splashed across his face. Huffing, he ran his fingers through his hair and reorganized the strands. He dried his hands off on his sweatpants. The cold water caused his ring to slip loosely on his finger.

His eyes pulled away from his reflection to focus on the glint of gold on his hand. He traced the cold metal. Heavy warmth budded in his chest.

His gaze snapped back to his reflection. He smoothed his crumpled t-shirt against his collarbone. Yuuri became acutely aware of the thinness of the fabric, the hole in the armpit, the bleach stain on the bottom hem. The sweatpants pooled around his feet, and he had had to roll the waistband several times to keep them on his waist because he had gotten these in his chubbier days finishing his degree. He’d lost the weight, but now he looked like a mess. It was sloppy. He was sloppy. 

Sighing, Yuuri slipped his glass on. His damp hair dribbled onto the lens. He grimaced and ripped them off.

Blurry eyesight be damned.

Quickly drying the lens off with the soft fabric of his shirt, he folded them up, set them down on the dresser, and returned to trying to make something decent happen with his hair.

The bedroom door creaked open. Victor emerged with his towel draped over his head and his bathrobe hanging loose on his shoulders. “Ah. I missed the onsen,” he sighed cheerily, rubbing his hair with the towel.

Yuuri swallowed.

Victor looked grand and handsome and put together no matter what. And he - he barely managed to look average most days. His eyes caught the flash of gold on Victor’s hand.

His heart stuttered. He clutched his own ring clad hand to his chest and turned back to his reflection. Victor had accepted the good-luck charm. Victor had returned the favor. Victor had claimed them engagement rings. Victor chose him. That meant something, he told himself. 

_ Right? _

His fingers nervously slipped through his hair again.

Letting out a low whine, Victor slipped his arms around Yuuri’s waist and pressed his face into the crook of his neck. He placed a quick kiss there. He pulled Yuuri closer into him, curling his body around him.

Yuuri let a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. He rested his hands on Victor’s arms and leaned his head against his.

“Sleepy,” Victor mewled, tugging Yuuri backwards lightly.

Patting his head, Yuri chuckled. “Then go to bed.”

“Only if you come, too.”

“Right behind you.”

Victor untangled himself from Yuuri. He stepped across the bedroom and pulled off his robe.

Yuuri had seen Victor naked several times since he came to be his coach. He had Victor’s ring, now, around his finger, but something in his chest still clenched. Heat washed his face. He tore his eyes away and looked back in the mirror. That only succeeded in giving him a view of his flustered face and Victor’s backside. The muscles taut and firm. Stray water droplets dribbled down his back and legs. He still had his towel draped over his shoulders. His skin stretched and his muscles rolled as he stooped to grab a pair of pajama bottoms from the bed. He slipped them on. One leg at a time. Slowly, as if he knew Yuuri felt compelled to watch him, mesmerized by his body and mystified by the fact that this was actually what his life had amounted to. 

Part of him still thought that a strong enough pinch or one waking morning or one fall on the ice would come and it would all be gone. Victor would be gone. 

But he was still there, despite everything.

Victor  _ wanted  _ to be here, he reminded himself.

Yuuri’s hands jumped up to straightening out his shirt again.

Victor knelt down by the bed and scratched Makkachin behind the ears. He placed a kiss on his head. Makkachin’s tail thumped against the mattress in tired excitement.

Stretching his arms over his head, Victor stood and turned around. “Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s hands stilled; his fingers splayed across his chest.

Victor met his eyes in the mirror and smiled. “You have me already, Yuuri. You don’t need to try to look nice.”

His heart tumbled. His fingers spasmed and clutched his shirt. The material wrinkled under his tight grip. The only sound Yuuri could make out was his heart pounding away in his ears. His eardrums boomed with the sound. 

_ Try? _

The word echoed with each thud of his heart.

Victor hadn’t meant it like that, right? It was an inconsequential word choice. He didn’t have to be over analyzing it. It wasn’t supposed to be as big of a deal as his mind was making it out to be.

He couldn’t help it.

His mind automatically ran through every possible way that word could have been meant by Victor. 

His fingers knotted in his hair and pulled. He tried to yank out the thoughts and the worries and the anxieties, but - they - wouldn’t - go. Why wouldn’t they just go? He was tired. So. Damn. Tired of this.

“Yuuri?” Worry crept into Victor’s voice.

_ Oh no.  _ He had done that. But the question gnawed at his throat, pushing to get passed his lips.

“Do you not like the way I look?” It exploded from him.

“What? No! Yuuri, what gave you that impression?”

Yuuri winced and ducked his head. “You said ‘try’. What did you mean? Do you not like how I look? I’m sorry. I know - I know this is just - this is just my anxiety. But, you like how I look, right?” His fingers traced his ring. He tried to use it to ground himself. To not overthink this. To calm his breathing. He wanted this to just stop. “I know you - ” His voice wasn’t letting him continue.

Hands on his shoulders spun him around and tugged him into a broad chest. Victor’s arms held him snugly against him. “Breathe, Yuuri. Breathe with me.” He took an exaggerated breath in and an exaggerated breath out. He repeated this for several minutes until Yuuri’s breathing matched his own. Yuuri hadn’t even realized how fast his breath had been coming out until he had Victor’s to compare to. 

Victor’s fingers massaged his back. He pressed a quick kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. “Look. I meant that you don’t need to put effort into trying to look nice, trying to impress me. Because you...you have - enchanted me. Nothing you do can make me see you as anything less.”

Fingers ghosted across the small of his back, up his sides, and cupped his cheeks. Victor kissed the tip of his nose.

“I love when your glasses fog up. And the moment when you flail around trying to find your way, convinced you can still see before you give in and clean them.”

He kissed his forehead. He lifted one hand briefly from Yuuri’s cheek to twirl a finger around a damn lock of hair. “I love your hair - the messier the better.” He cupped Yuuri’s cheek again. “I love that your whole body blushes. It makes me happy whenever I see it. It makes me even happier when I know I’m the reason it’s there. I love when you concentrate so hard on skating that the entire world melts away. I love the sweat that beads on your lip.” 

Victor’s thumb grazed over the tender skin of Yuuri’s upper lip. Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat.

Victor’s eyes searched his. A small dent creased the skin between his eyebrows. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. “I love your dedication and that you care  _ so  _ much.” Knocking his forehead against Yuuri’s, his eyes slipped closed. “I love all of you.”

Yuuri’s throat tightened and burned. He shook his head. “You don’t love this. My anxiety,” he clarified.

Victor’s fingers slipped from his face to his shoulders. They kneaded and rubbed the tense muscles there before stilling. His thumbs rubbed small circles over his collarbone. Victor took a deep breath before opening his eyes. “I love  _ all _ of you. I don’t expect me telling you this will make your worries vanish forever. I  _ wish _ there was something I could tell you that - I know I haven’t always been the best at this. I’m learning. And I will  _ always _ be here to tell you whatever you need to hear. Or just stand here and hug you. Whatever. Whatever you need.”

His grip on Yuuri’s shoulders tightened. He rubbed firm circles with his thumbs against his collarbone. “You - you work to overcome it. You are so strong and courageous. The fact that you keep skating and you keep living your life knowing that at any moment that enjoyment may slip and the panic may set in. The fact that you keep facing your struggles, that impresses me so much. So,  _ so _ much. I want to be there and support you. However I can.” 

Victor dropped his hand to grab Yuuri’s. He brought their clasped hands up to eye level and kissed the gold ring on Yuuri’s finger as he had in Barcelona. His lips lingered against it. His damp, hot breath stirred against the back of Yuuri’s hand. Keeping their hands entwined and against his lips, Victor gazed at Yuuri.

“I felt so alone before. Before you. And with you - with you I belong, I have someone by my side, I have - ” Victor cleared his throat. “I have love. I chose every day to wake up by your side. I chose every day to love you and marvel at your beauty and dedication. I chose every day to support you and work with you through any and every difficulty and challenge. I  _ chose _ this - us. And I’ve never felt freer or happier. I want you to remember this every time you see this ring.”

Yuuri felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Those sound like wedding vows.”

Victor winced and glanced away. “I may have been drafting something up.” Light pink dusted the bridge of his nose.

Yuuri felt his own face growing warm. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The only thing Yuuri could make himself do was nod.

“I mean everything I said, Yuuri..”

“Vitya, I…” Yuuri grabbed Victor’s hand and traced the matching ring adorning his finger. “I’ll need you to talk to me. And be patient. And yes, stand by me, but don’t try to fix it all. I’ll probably have you explain what you say five times to make sure I understand it right. But, you’ve given me so much confidence. You’ve given me something - someone - I want to hold on to. If I think about you leaving,” tears clogged Yuuri’s throat, “I don’t know what to do. Nothing makes me scareder.”

“Yuuri.”

“Let me finish, Vitya,” Yuuri snapped.

Victor’s eyes widened; his lips parted in mild surprise before he shut them and nodded. His eyes narrowed in focus.

“You tell me you don’t plan to leave. I  _ know _ . But I still worry. And I don’t want to lose you. Holding on to you means fighting for you, fighting for us. I will  _ fight _ . And that means fighting my anxiety.”

Victor’s lips curled into a smirk. “Those also sound like wedding vows.”

“Not nearly as polished as yours.”

“You have time to work on them,” he said, slipping his arms around Yuuri’s waist.

“How much time?”

Kissing his neck, Victor murmured, “Not too much. Come to bed?”

Yuuri pushed him away and Victor readily complied by stepping back. “I’m a proper gentleman.” He wagged his finger. “No sleeping together until those vows are official, sir.”

Victor pouted. His shoulders slumped. Spinning on his heels, he shuffled to his bed and collapsed next to Makkachin. He wrapped his arm around his neck and buried his face in his fur. “I have been scorned, Makkachin. My love refuses my bed.”

Slinking around to the other side of the bed, Yuuri draped himself on the bed across from Victor, squeezing Makkachin between them. “I guess we do have a chaperone,” he said, petting Makkachin’s sleeping form.

“Is this a vision I see before me?”

“Everything you see is a vision.”

“Is this one I can touch?”

“Yes.”

Victor lifted a hand and rested it on Yuuri’s waist. “Is this one I can kiss?”

“Yes.”

Pushing himself up on his elbow, Victor leaned over Makkachin and pressed a light kiss to Yuuri’s lips. “Is this one I can keep?”

“Yes,” Yuuri breath out, tilting his head to meet Victor’s lips again.

Slipping away, Victor murmured, “I know nothing I can do can fix things. And that hurts, that I can’t make it go away. But I am here, and I always will be. I believe in you.”

Yuuri cupped Victor’s cheek, his thumb drew lazy circles against his skin. “Thank you.”


End file.
